Sammy's Problem
by himrqwerty
Summary: Sam was beaten by John as a kid, and since then has cut himself to relieve the pain. This time, he decides to end it all. Can Dean save him again, this time from himself?
1. Chapter 1

Digging my fingers into my still throbbing knee, fresh stabbing pain makes my eyes water and heat drive down my calf. Though my eyes are almost overflowing, I don't move my hand from the spot, creating what I'm sure will be a nasty bruise.

The pain takes away the horrible ache in my heart and, more importantly, Lucifer. Lucy still popped up sometimes, not often though. Pain always helps.

I remove my hand from the spot when the pain stops increasing and levels out.

The pain fades too quickly.

Eyes flicking to the clock, I figure I've got at least an hour before Dean comes back, if he doesn't go home with another girl.

My hands are shaking, itching to grab Ruby's knife, to give myself relief the only way I know how. I rub my shaking hands over the many scars on my thighs, ranging in size and thickness, hoping to ease the itch.

It doesn't work.

Giving in, I berate myself all the way to the bathroom, snagging Ruby's knife - the demon knife. It has always hurt a bit more, probably from all the demon blood I've taken in, even though I've been dry for a long time.

I turn the water on to the hottest possible and fill the bottom of the tub just enough to cover my feet. I pull of my jeans and roll up my boxers. I sit gingerly on the edge of the bath, letting my feet scald. My hands trace my scars as I remember how it all started.

_*3rd Person*_

_It was back with John, Sam was 14. Dean was out hustling the bars, it was just the eldest and the youngest Winchester - a disaster waiting to happen, they both knew it. Sam was on his bed, doing homework._

_"Sammy," John called. "I think I've got us a job. Come over here and start research." John ordered._

_"Yessir, let me just finish this sheet." Sad said, not even bothering to argue, wanting to keep the peace._

_"No, you'll do it now. Hunting's more important than school." Sam's dad bit back, scorn filling his voice at the mention of school work._

_"Sir, I'm almost done. Two minutes." Sam said, biting his cheek to refrain from telling his often-absent father he didn't give a damn about hunting._

_"No. Now." John retorted, quickly getting furious. _

_The argument escalated to a full-on shouting match, ending with John holding Sam by his scruff up against a wall. They were nose to nose, Sam's eyes filled with fear instead of defiance, John's with fury._

_"Please" was all Sam got out, before John raised his fist, throwing it towards Sam's face. _

_Sam's eye began to purple immediately._

_Not caring that his son had long since learned the lesson, John hit Sam again and again, Sam only getting out small words between sobs._

_"Please-" "Stop-" "I'll listen!" 'Anything!"_

_Sam's tears only made John more furious, Sam is a Winchester, he should take a beating like one._

_Sam is curled into a little ball, shielding his face and stomach from the blows, when Dean walks in. John stops immediately. Instantly, Dean knows what happened. Worry and pure anger filling his eyes and his fists clenching, Dean decides to focus on his severely injured baby brother, gently leading Sam to the bathroom, handing him a rag and telling him to clean up._

_It was only after Dean softly shut the bathroom door that he spun around to yell at his father, the person that he worshipped._

_Instead of cleaning his wounds and wrapping what is most likely a broken rib or two, Sam sat staring in the mirror, the things his father yelled at him echoing through his mind._

_"Useless" "More like Dean" "Your fault she's dead" "Just leave" "Gonna get Dean killed" "This is your fault" _

_and the worst, "Stupid!" Of all the awful things he had been called, stupid wasn't one of them. Even his father, who seemed to under appreciate and take Sam for granted at every turn, had always been proud of Sam's intelligence._

_Until now, it seems._

_Sam reached down to his sock and pulled out his butterfly knife._

_Tears streaming down his face, Sam sliced his thighs viciously, just wanting those words out of his mind._

Shaking myself out of my stupor, my mind returns to my body, only to see fifteen or sixteen deep slashes on my thighs. The bath water was already tinged pink, which wasn't a good thing.

"There's no way I'm going to be able to hide this." I realized, it hitting me like a ton of bricks.

_"Just finish it"_ a voice in my head told me, sounding suspiciously like my dead father.

For the first time in my life, I listened.

I took the knife in my shaking hands, my sight clouded with tears, and slit my arm from my elbow to my wrist.

I no longer had the strength to stay on the bath, so I slid in with a splash, more of my blood and tears and snot mixing with the bath water, which had long since cooled down.

The last thing I do before losing consciousness is hear Dean come in, dead drunk.


	2. Not A Chapter

Hey readers-

Just an FYI, I am still under 18, and I managed to get my laptop taken away. I won't be able to update until Monday or Tuesday. Sorry... I'm not very happy about it either, but there's not much I can do.


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